


A Little Sadism

by TwoWhovianHearts



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dom!John, Gags, Humiliation, Lube, M/M, Post Orgasm Torture, Punishment, Riding Crop, Spanking, slightly dark John, sub!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4744601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoWhovianHearts/pseuds/TwoWhovianHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friend on tumblr who wishes to remain anonymous asked for a piece similar in character to A Study in Kink, but with the roles reversed. So here it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock was a whimpering mess, lying on top of the duvet with his hands secured underneath him. As for John, he was in his element, and merely smiled at the squirming form below him.

 

‘You’ve been such a bad boy, haven’t you kitten, hm?’ The doctor stroked his hand from Sherlock’s face, down his torso and past his hipbone, continuing all the way down to his ankle. He was sure that, had he been able, Sherlock would have had a bitter retort; however as it was, a ball gag prevented him from any coherent speech, so he had to settle for grunts and raised eyebrows.

 

‘Quit fidgeting, slut! You’re only making things worse for yourself. Do you want me to get angry again?’

 

At this, the detective instantly stilled, apparently in fear, and said nothing. John was not happy, with this lack of verbal response, though, and gave Sherlock’s hardening cock a harsh slap, resulting in a garbled ‘No, Sir.’

 

‘That’s better. Now, let’s discuss how you got here, shall we?’ Both parties were aware that it would be more of a monologue than a discussion, but John continued regardless.

 

‘I don’t expect much of you, boy. I let you go days without food or sleep, I rush off after you whenever there’s a case, I make tea on demand. You get away with murder, really. The only thing I ask of you in return, is to keep the fridge free of your… experiments. Is that so difficult?’

 

Signs of discomfort appeared on Sherlock’s face, and he shook his head sheepishly.

 

‘No? Then surely, if you say it is easy to comply with my one wish, there must be another explanation for why, after coming home from a long and strenuous day at the surgery this afternoon, I found a whole human head on the top shelf!’ The Dom’s voice rose in a crescendo as he finished his sentence, and Sherlock flinched, shutting his eyes tight and shaking his head slowly.

 

‘That’s right. You knew it was wrong, and you did it anyway. So I must punish you. It is my responsibility.’ He leant down and brought his lips to the detective’s ear. ‘And you won’t enjoy it,’ he whispered. ‘Much’. Sherlock whimpered.

 

* * *

 

 

The detective was grateful that John had removed the gag from his mouth, despite the fact that it wasn’t for his benefit. The drooling was humiliating, and his jaw had begun to ache. However, the embarrassment of his current position was not lost on him; he was on his front with his hands tied to the head board above his head, knees tucked right under his body, which left his arsehole completely exposed and his genitals hanging beneath. His hard prick brushed the duvet, but it was nowhere nearly enough friction to scratch the desperate itch he was developing.

 

‘Here’s what’s going to happen,’ the doctor began, and a pool of dread filled the detective’s stomach. John always began his punishments by describing what he was going to do, because it made Sherlock weak with arousal and therefore all the more difficult for him to resist an orgasm, which was strictly forbidden during correction.

 

‘You are going to take a warm-up spanking from my hand, followed by 30 strikes with the riding crop, one for each minute it took me to come to terms with seeing that… thing, next to the butter and eggs. Then, once you are sorry, I am going to open you up, two fingers only, and fuck you into the mattress like the whore you are. But make no mistake, kitten, there will be no pleasure for you tonight. If you even dream of coming without my permission, you won’t have another orgasm for a month. Do I make myself clear, slut?’

 

The sub swallowed around the lump in his throat. ‘Yes, Sir.’

 

‘Good. Then let’s begin.’ That was the only warning Sherlock received before John was quickly heating his arse up with an assault from both hands, which left no gap at all between slaps. It was very little time before Sherlock felt the need to cry out, so he stifled himself by burying his head in the pillow below him.

 

‘Don’t hide yourself from me, boy,’ the doctor said, increasing the force behind his spanks. ‘I want to hear the pain I’m giving you, your cries as you take your punishment from your master.’

 

John’s words only made Sherlock even more turned on, and he had to resist the urge to rub himself against the duvet. The only thing stopping him was the severe punishment he knew that would incur… he shuddered as he thought of the last time.

 

The pain in his arse was reaching the height of his threshold now, and he couldn’t help but shout with every impact. He felt a tear roll onto his lips, and wondered when he has started crying; the fact that he hadn’t noticed was a testament to how far gone he was.

 

After a few more minutes, the spanking stopped as quickly as it had started, and John stood back to admire his work, a smirk on his face that Sherlock couldn’t see. He squeezed and poked at the tender flesh, revelling in the pained whimpers that the detective produced.

 

‘Are you ready for the next part, boy?’ the doctor asked.

 

Sherlock wasn’t sure he was, but knowing he didn’t have a choice, he nodded, reasoning with the logic that it was better sooner than later.

 

A sudden pain flared around his scalp which made him shout; John had grabbed his hair and wrenched his head back. ‘That isn’t the correct response slut, and you know it.’ He let go carelessly and Sherlock’s head dropped back to the pillow. ‘Now I’ll ask you again. Are you ready for the next part?’

 

This time, the sub’s response was loud and clear. ‘Yes, Sir.

 

‘That’s my kitten. Stay here while I fetch the crop from the living room. When I come back, you better be exactly as you are now – if you move a muscle, you’ll be sorry.’

 

He turned around and left the room, leaving Sherlock alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John continues his punishment of Sherlock.

John smiled as he left the room, knowing that Sherlock would not dare to move. He loved these games they played, he loved the power trip that it gave him, and most of all, he loved the fact that, despite evidence to the contrary, his lover was a more than willing participant. To have someone under him, at his mercy – and to know that the person _wanted_ to be there – that was a heady feeling, and one that he was sure he would never tire of.

 

John was eager to continue, and was tempted to grab the crop from its place on the chair and head immediately back to their room where Sherlock was waiting in trepidation. However, he knew it would be much more effective if he left the detective to stew for a little while. He therefore picked up the riding crop and crossed the room to the window. The doctor cast a glance across the street – it was still light outside, being summer, but only just. It seemed that much more indecent for the pair to be getting up to such dirty antics when daylight still lit the streets – the thought was exhilarating.

 

Deciding they had both waited long enough, John began to make his way back to the bedroom, thinking about how he could make this even more interesting. An idea caught in his mind, and he grinned darkly.

 

Sherlock flinched as he heard the door open, signalling that John had returned. The older man stroked down his sub’s spine, feeling a trail of goose bumps rise in his wake. ‘That’s my good kitten. See, you do know how to obey me, don’t you, hm?’

 

The younger man swallowed. ‘Yes, Sir.’

 

‘Yes. Now I’m going to untie your hands, and you’ll get onto all fours on the floor in front of me. You see, it’s all well and good me punishing you, but I don’t really enjoy it – it is punishment, after all.’ Both men ignored the blatant lie. ‘So, I’ve decided that, while I’m delivering your thirty strokes – which you will count – you will also use your cock-sucking talents to get me ready to plough your arse. You’ll have to get it very wet though, because I won’t be using lube; that will be the last part of your punishment. Have I made myself clear?’

 

Sherlock was filled with a mixture of excitement and dread; he loved sucking John’s thick cock, and he loved being fucked, but he was worried about the lack of preparation. Despite knowing that John would never deliberately damage him, he couldn’t help thinking about the potential dangers. At this point, though, the only thing his Dom wanted was an answer, so he replied, ‘Yes Sir.’

 

‘Good. Get to it, then.’ The doctor untied his hands from the headboard before perching on the edge of the bed, setting the crop down beside him and unzipping his trousers while the detective dropped to the floor in front of him. With a sigh of relief, John released his aching prick from the confines of his underwear, touching Sherlock’s lips with it before pulling back slightly.

 

‘Go on, slut. Take me into your mouth. Show me how much you want my cock.’ The younger man groaned and mouthed at the head before enveloping nearly the entire length between his lips. The sudden heat made John gasp, and it took him a second to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

 

‘Okay boy, I’m going to start now. If you forget to count, I’ll start again from the beginning.’ Without further ado, he lifted the crop and brought it down on the plump part of Sherlock’s left arse cheek. The man pulled off and said ‘One, Sir’, before returning to his task with enthusiasm.

 

The crop came down again, this time on the other side.

 

‘Two, Sir.’

 

The first eleven strokes passes as such, with Sherlock counting and sucking, licking and counting, but by the twelfth, his tender backside was really beginning to sting. On number thirteen, the impact caught him by surprise and he bit down before he could stop himself. It wasn’t a hard bite, and didn’t hurt John, but that was irrelevant. Sherlock was in trouble.

 

The detective felt his Dom’s nails on his scalp a second before his head was wrenched away from John’s groin. ‘You’re a naughty, filthy slut. Did I say you could bite? Did I?’

 

Sherlock shook his head frantically. ‘No, Sir, I’m sorry Sir. It’s just that I-‘

 

A hand was clamped over his mouth, rendering him speechless. ‘No, slut. I don’t want to hear your excuses. Since you obviously can’t do two things at once, you no longer have my cock to suck on for comfort while I administer your punishment. I didn’t hear you count that one, so we have to start from the beginning again, and for the biting I’m adding an extra five. Now, I’m going to move my hand and let go of your head. I don’t want to hear another word from you until I’m done.’

 

The younger man’s eyes pleaded with John for some mercy, but he knew better than to speak, not when he’d disappointed him already. Instead, he let his head hang low and resigned himself to the spanking he knew he deserved.

 

After the first fifteen, John paused to feel the heat radiating from his sub’s behind. He pinched the right cheek, resulting in a stifled whimper, before continuing with the next ten strokes.

 

At twenty-five, he leant close to Sherlock. ‘You’re doing so well, boy. Only ten left now; you can take it for me, can’t you, slut? I know you can take anything I give you.’

 

The detective wanted to agree, but he found it difficult when the very skin of his arse felt as though it was being flayed off by the last strokes. It seemed that the doctor had saved all his strength for these, for the pain was almost unbearable and caused the detective to cry. His safeword was on the tip of his tongue, but the thirty-fifth stroke came down before he had need to use it.

 

John dropped the riding crop and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders. ‘That’s my good kitten. You took it so well.’ He wiped a stray tear from his face. ‘It’s okay, we’re done now.’

 

‘Are you ready for the good part now, my slut?’

 

Sherlock smiled weakly. ‘Yes, Sir.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi on tumblr: twowhovianhearts.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final part of Sherlock's punishment - with a twist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is the last instalment of this piece. It's finished for now, but I may dabble in this universe again, maybe a one-shot or a sequel. For now though, this will be all.
> 
> This has been really fun to write, and it's not something I would even thought about doing if not for a certain person asking, so I'm actually really grateful. If you like this, please read A Study in Kink - it's a much longer piece with the roles reversed, but written in a similar style to this. It's my only WIP at the moment.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and gave me kudos; your efforts mean the world to me. Now, enjoy!

‘Up you get, slut. On the bed.’ The words were sharp, harsh, but the tone John used was affectionate. Sherlock got to his feet and lay down on his stomach, arms under his head, but John was having none of it.

 

‘Oh no you don’t. Turn over; I want to see your face as I take my pleasure, while yours is so far away.’

 

And wasn’t that one of the hottest things the detective had ever heard; the words flowed through his ears like liquid heat, and made his purpling cock jump with arousal. He turned over onto his back and waited for further instruction.

 

‘Grasp your ankles, boy. I want your legs by your head.’ Sherlock obeyed, squirming as the humiliating exposure of the position dawned on him. ‘Don’t like that, do you, slut? Laid bare for me to stare at, your greedy little hole winking at me.’ At that, the younger man felt his arsehole clenching in response, and his face turned the same colour as his desperate prick. John chuckled darkly.

 

‘Now, since my lovely blowjob was cut short by your misbehaviour, I will be using lube.’ Sherlock felt a weight lifted from his shoulders, and he nearly let go of his legs, such was his relief. John seemed to sense his lover’s sentiments, for he added, ‘Only two fingers preparation, though, and I won’t be gentle. You deserve to feel every inch I give to you.’ The doctor stroked his cock languorously with one hand while he obtained the lube from a drawer with the other. He poured some into his palm and rubbed some onto his stiff member, then without any warning, thrust one finger into Sherlock’s tight hole, right to the third knuckle.

 

‘Oh, Jo- Sir!’ Sherlock cried out, his back arching and toes curling; it was difficult to keep hold of his ankles when his body was being assaulted as it was. John gave him no time to adjust, however, pistoning his finger in and out of Sherlock’s entrance while the latter man whimpered. Before the detective could ground himself, a second finger had joined the first, and both were thrusting just as viciously in and out of his tender hole.

 

This continued only for a few minutes, however, before John pulled his fingers out and Sherlock tried to breath. ‘Prepare yourself, slut,’ John growled as he wiped his fingers on the duvet. ‘Are you ready?’

 

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, unsure how to feel – he was slightly afraid, but at the same time, he loved it when John gave him a good, hard fucking. God, the doctor was right – he was a slut.

 

A resounding crack echoed through the room and a bright heat flared across the left side of the detective’s face as John slapped him.

 

‘That’s not the correct answer, boy. Now you’ve lost the chance to give me one.’

 

He drove home with one long thrust, groaning as his balls slapped his sub’s red arse and Sherlock cried out. The younger’s cock jumped as John brushed across his prostate, sending sparks to nerves in places he didn’t even know had nerves. The doctor pulled out almost completely before sinking back in again and stilling, which caused Sherlock to whine in frustration.

 

‘What’s wrong, kitten? Want me to move?’

 

Not willing to repeat his earlier mistake, the detective replied, ‘Yes, Sir. Please, Sir!’

 

He received a harsh slap anyway. ‘Tough, whore. I’m in control here, not you. _I_ decide what happens next.’

 

No sooner had he finished speaking than he set up a punishing, brutal pace, pulling out and slamming back in with barely enough time to breathe between thrusts. Sherlock gripped his ankles with every ounce of strength and tried his best to survive the onslaught. However, every thrust of John’s thick cock was reaching his prostate, and he could feel his orgasm building against his will. He felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge and after a few more minutes, he had to cry.

 

‘Jo- Sir, wait! I’m going to come, I can’t…’ he panted desperately. The older man, however, was not interested.

 

‘Don’t you dare, slut. You’re being punished; you’re not allowed to come.’ He didn’t slow down though, and Sherlock was right at his limit.

 

‘Please, Sir! Ah, ah-‘

 

‘No!’ John growled deeply, and slapped the detective’s cheek once again. That was the last straw; between the feeling of his Dom pounding his hole, his balls slapping against his abused arse and the fiery pain igniting his face he couldn’t hold back anymore. He groaned viscerally, spilling his release all over his stomach.

 

After a few seconds, Sherlock shook off the afterglow and looked up at John, who was glaring intensely, his eyes dark, still seated. When he spoke, it was calm and cold.

 

‘You disobeyed me yet again, boy. You never learn, do you? But no matter. You’ll regret your mistake, I’ll be sure of that.’

 

The detective swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried not to imagine the various horrors John could have in store for him. However, when the doctor began to move again, much more slowly this time, and avoiding his prostate, he thought that he had been miraculously let off the hook. But the illusion didn’t last long – after a few slow thrusts, John grabbed his oversensitive cock at the same time as he began to target his prostate. Sherlock was _far_ too sensitive to be touched again so soon after orgasm, and John knew it. The older man stroked his sub’s cock in time with his thrusting, and the detective cried out in delicate pain.

 

‘Please Sir, please! Stop, Sir, it hurts, I can’t take it!’ He let go of his ankles to push John’s hand away from his prick, but was halted by John, who had obviously expected this move.

 

‘Get your hands back into position, boy. Or do you want to be in more trouble?’

 

Reluctantly, Sherlock grasped his ankles once more, squirming violently as the assault continued.

 

John began to move faster. ‘You will take this until I reach my release. Then, and only then, will I stop touching you, understood?’

 

‘Yes Sir,’ Sherlock whined with a nod. He felt a glimmer of hope as the doctor increased his speed further. He had to be close; the detective was sure his poor cock couldn’t take much more.

 

Three, four, five thrusts later and John was moaning, spending himself inside his lover’s tight hole. He let go of Sherlock’s limp, red cock and the latter let out the air he’d been holding in a huge breath. John pulled out slowly, smirking as some of his release followed, trickling down the detective’s crack.

 

‘That’s my good kitten,’ he breathed, collapsing onto the form below him. ‘You took that so well for me. It’s over now.’

 

Sherlock smiled into the skin of John’s neck, breathing heavily.

 

‘Thank you, Sir.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi on tumblr! twowhovianhearts.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Come and say hi on tumblr! twowhovianhearts.tumblr.com


End file.
